Changing of the Guard
by T.S. Atlas
Summary: The Keeper of the Hammer stumbles upon an Idol, hidden deep away...and in her, he sees the Iron Ambassador, he sees her past life, and relives once again the moment that changed his life forever. Perhaps this time, he can help life the weight that burdens her shoulders. To help the yordle known as Poppy.


_**A/N-**_ I am absolutely in love with the new Poppy, and, hopefully, I have done right by her and captured her character in this short I was inspired to right. Definitely, I see more Poppy stories to come in the future. I hope you enjoy, and are excited for, perhaps, more stories from me following this particular Yordle.

* * *

Changing of the Guard

Her pigtails swished from side to side as she waddled onwards, the hammer upon her back heavy and made it hard for her to walk properly, she always feeling unbalanced, and the fact that it was twice her size did nothing to help. The weight on her back tired her, her feet having been screaming for miles already, but she still pushed on. In a way, she got used to it. She had traveled countless miles by foot since her journey had begun. That said, she felt determined. Nothing would stop her from finding the hero! Not the aching feeling in her legs, not the heavy armor she wore or the even heavier hammer she carried, nor would the…hot…hot…sun…you know, even legendary heroes take breaks, right?

She looked around at her surroundings, making sure she was alone, someplace safe for her to rest a short while. There have been times where bandits have tried to steal the weapon she carried, although, usually she'd wake up to see them struggling to even lift it an inch. Once she saw that the cost was clear, that there was no danger near, she let loose a hefty sigh for someone of her statue. Now, the last step of the process she became accustomed to, actually finding a comfortable spot to lay her head. But…where would that be? Actually, where even _was_ she? She had a bad sense of direction…but, as she once heard a drunk say, _"Not all who squander are…"_ wait a sec, that's not right either…anyway…

She looked at her surroundings. This time, not just surveying the area for threats, but actually seeing where she was. She was in a marsh of some sort, the stench of death hung in the air, the wind howling as it swept its ways through the trees…it was some sort of…Howling Marsh, the yordle mused…if only. What with all the fancy names they have for towns and other places in Valoran, like Demacia or Noxus or even the norther Freljord, she was sure it would have some weird but noble sounding name, like…Marsh…cia…xus…ljord….Marshciaxusljord…yeah, that sounded about right. She snorted, thinking about it. People are weird.

Here and there were some good looking brush for her to sleep in, some looking more comfy than others, but upon closer inspection, most of them had thorns or some other residents, and by residents, she meant that there were bones…lots and lots of them. Oh, and some cloth, and some old rusted weapons as well. A battle must have taken place a long, long time ago. She couldn't help but smile. _A battle was fought here, huh…maybe I'm on legendary hero's trail!_ The thought made her giddy. Unfortunately, such sights weren't too uncommon for her. That said, it didn't bother her any at all. If one where to look at her, a small and cute yordle with big fluffy ears and childish pigtails, they would say it was a tragedy that she had to witness such horrors…but then again, you would probably first notice the oversized war hammer and very battle-worn armor before you even made it to the girl's eyes. She was an enigma, that yordle. But, one thing was for sure, she sure knew how to use that hammer.

As she looked up at the midday sun, she had to shield her eyes. It was too hot…on second thought, maybe finding a brush to sleep in might not be the best idea…it was already hot enough, she didn't need cover…especially not with this cool, yet unsettling eerie, wind that blew through the trees…yes, of course! Maybe she can take refuge beneath a tree, hiding from the sun's rays within the shade of a tree!

Well, it was definitely a good plan, but, what with it being a marsh and all…a lot of the earth was not too firm…what would happen if she fell asleep and her heavy armor made her sink a bit into the earth…again! She would be stuck and would have to struggle to get up, like a poro on its back…again! Or, what if the hammer would sink into the soft soil and she was unable to take it out? Then the legendary hero she sought would have to find her! After all, only a hero destined from greatness would be able to life the hammer from sunken earth…or, or! Or what if she fell asleep too close to the tree, _and then_ sunk into the earth, _and then_ wake up, _only to find herself tangled in the roots, unable to escape._

She though hard (and seriously) about these near impossible outcomes. She nodded to herself, deciding it would be safer to find a place elsewhere. She looked to higher elevations, where the ground seemed sturdier and less likely, or rather, even less likely, to swallow her in her slumber. But as she walked uphill and the trees became more numerous and dense, she felt her eyes closing, the canopy overhead shading her from the sun and the subtle darkness in the middle of a bright and hot day causing her to yawn greatly. Her eyes closed, however, she stumbled into a tree, falling backwards on her behind.

"Ow! What the…oh…" she looked up, rubbing her forehead. That was no tree, she thought to herself. No, it was…stone, not wood… solemn giant, with great wings. Immediately, she turned around, curious in how far she managed to walk while yawning. Turning back to the statue, she could feel her heart race a little. What was this…this feeling? It was like…she had been here before…

The statue opened its eyes…and the Yordle shrieked, scared. Scared, but, she did not run. She took up the hammer, a pint sized warrior with a massive weapon, who, unthreateningly, trembled behind it, hoping the hammer would protect her.

"You…" it spoke, a solace and tired tone, a being that had awoken from decades' long slumber, its voice ancient and with great weight. It caused a chill to run up her spine. "Yes…I've seen you…"

"H-huh? Wh-who…me?" She didn't drop stance, but, the being before her, although terribly frightening, showed no sign of hostility.

"Yes…you…we have met once…"

"Uh…I…I don't think we have, mister...uh…who are you?"

The gargoyle moved, stone cracking at its joints to allow it to do so, its wings spread, encompassing the sky and blocking out the sun as he stretched for the first time in perhaps a century. Her eyes widened, she was struck with awe. The moss on his stony features fell, his skin of dark blues and greens mixed with vibrant yellows, all faded with age, his eyes were a crimson, his features stoic…he looked…legendary…probably not the hero, but, defiantly someone from the same kind of stories. He relaxed, back unto his pedestal, his attention on her, his ancient and resolute gaze seeming to look not at her, but through her, judging her. She gripped the hammer tightly. Is he trying to judge if I am fit enough to be its bearer, even temporarily until she is to find to rightful owner? She wouldn't allow him to take it from her.

She lowered her form, only slightly, her eyes sharpened as she was ready to turn the stone beast to dust. But her eyes went wide at his next words…

"Poppy." She was surprised, and, it was clear on her face. "That is your name."

"H-how did you…"

"I knew you…once…a long…long…long, time ago…so long, in fact, it was, perhaps, a different lifetime…but no…you…you are her…I can see by the way you carry yourself…"

"By how I…carry myself?" She cocked her head in confusion. What is going on? So many questions flooded her mind…she did not know of any gargoyles…as far as she knew, this was the first time she passed through these lands, so…how did he…know…how did he know her, how did he know her name…why would _anyone_ remember the name of Poppy…she was nothing special…

"Yes…she was a tragic thing…alone in the world…and yet, she went on, moving forward…she had a job to do…as do you." She gulped at this. "Hers was to deliver a gift…and yours…?"

It took her a moment before she took the hint. "Oh! I'm supposed to find the hero that this hammer belongs to!"

The idol was quiet for a moment. "It is not yours?"

"No…I was told to find someone fitting of this hammer…to find a legendary hero! Someone who would use this hammer for good!" She was beaming, describing her fairytale hero. HE listened to her ramblings, watched her warm smile and her energetic movements, saw the way her body relaxed and the way she smiled. Sunlight had touched his figure countless times over the years, but she was his first experience of warmth in some time. The child she once saw, so tragic, stood tall, an immense weight on her shoulders, and she grew up to be stoic and cold. Never would he see her laugh or show any of the expressions this one now showed to him. And yet… "Oh! I'm sorry…you probably think I'm annoying, huh?"

"No, not at all. I quite enjoy seeing you, hearing you." Her cheeks grew red at this, she fidgeted with her hammer. "And why is it not yours?"

She looked up, a bit befuzzled. "Because, it's not mine…"

"And why not?"

Her gaze dropped and her tone darkened slightly…it was almost as if…no, she definitely was…in pain. "I'm no hero…"

"Hmm." She looked to be on the verge of tears. Yes…she was her…the Yordle before him…Poppy…a much gentler one…a much more innocent and beautiful soul…and the world…the world was cruel...the past Poppy withstood the storm, and came out of it changed, came out of it stronger…but the one before him…she was even stronger…it took courage for one to remain gentle in such a harsh world…it took immense strength for her to smile so genuinely…this, a world of war and death, of sorcery…

Long ago, there was an institute that devoted itself to prevent the world from becoming what it is now…but…it failed…the institute fell…and the world fell back into chaos…and yet, in such a dark world, this little Poppy found the light to bloom. The tears that fell…give him a pang in his chest. He looked to the sky.

"Neither was she, in a way." She wiped her tears. "She was but a child when we had first met…and, it was only I who saw her…here I sat, a failure, and there she strolled, right along the path that you now walk. She had lost everything, but, her conviction was strong. A child showed me strength, a child showed me how to move forward. And so, I did. For a time. She was not meant for greatness. She was meant to live happily. She was a child. But se forged her own path. And you? You don't find yourself to be a hero?"

"Um…no, sir…"

"And yet, neither was she. I watched her grow, I watched her harden. And yet, you…you are in every ways alike, but for one thing…she never smiled. She never could. So tell me…where is your strength?" Her eyes widened. _My strength? Why…why DO I smile?_ "She was known, not as a hero, but as a champion. So tell me…why can't you be a hero? Because you are a child? Because you are still soft? You search for a hero, but…maybe…you don't need to search." He lowered his gaze to see her head hanging in melancholy. What had he done? Of course…

"But, maybe…you aren't…"

"What!?" She was shocked more than she was surprised, her heart felt torn.

"A hero needs a purpose, just as a weapon needs a wielder…what purpose do you have? To deliver it to its rightful owner…so keep that…that purpose you have…her conviction was what made her strong…but it is your determination that will make you even stronger, little one."

Warm tears streamed down her cheeks. Tears of happiness. Yes…she had a purpose in this world…she knew she did…she always had one…yes! She would find that hero! She bowed, almost falling forward due to her weapon's weight. "Thank you!" she said, her voice shaking.

Before he could say anymore, she was off, running out of the forest, towards the now setting sun, carrying herself with strength never before seen by Galio. He could not help but to smile, to see those familiar pigtails swoosh side to side. She carried a hammer, just as the one in his memory had all the times he had seen her go to battle…but it was not battle the Yordle hurried to…it was to the sun's warmth and adventure. She had been burdened by an immense weight…but now…this Poppy seemed…free…almost weightless…

A thin smile formed on his features as the Idol of Durand slowly picked itself up from a lifetime of forlorn purgatory, he found…a reason…to move forward…this meeting had reignited his will…

 _And once again, it is you who inspires me. Hopefully, this time, I have at least helped you somewhat._

 _Goodbye, Poppy._


End file.
